Be Real lyrics

Artist  : Trillville 
Song : Be Real



 Send "Be Real" Ringtone to your Cell 

 [Chorus: 2X]

If you a thug my nigga be a thug

if you sell drugs my nigga then sell drugs

if you gonna rap about it be trill about it

and dont say shit if you can't BE REAL about
it



[Verse 1]

Comin up as a child my city was hell

My moma was the best soldier, dad stayed in out
of jail

I came robbin and kickin in doors then on my
behalf and 17 old

But ya see shorty, My mom was a G

she made it real easy for my sista and me

She did what she had to do, and got and got on
the grind like a damn nigga would do

Talkin about pimpin, o she did that too

I got robbed, a bunch of old niggas took all my
loot

And I was just 12 years old on 13 I'm sellin'
dope thats why I thank my heart is so cold

I gives a fuck about none of you hoes

All you fake thugs think about is grills and
gold, and pressin these doors

(shorty) and cakin these hoes

Ima pimp, I spend my time makin these hoes



[Chorus]



[Verse 2]

Nobody loves me so I guess I stay to myself

A nigga thinkin bout change comtemplating my
death

Fell my pain as it reigns all over a nigga

and the only way I can get away is weed and
liquor

Fukin niggaz up on the daily if they didnt pay
me

Niggaz pullin guns on me damn near drove me
crazy

Young nigga went to school just to sell some
dope

A lil crazy ass nigga wit a knife in his coat

And in the streets broke heathens went through
drama especially

moma swung on a nigga, I stabbed the bitch in her
head (nigga)

I dont scratch my head unless it itchs

an I dont smoke unless I'm bustin at you hatin
bitchs

nigga we was brave to die, dont be askin me
why

Ill rather hustle then be poor cuz niggaz sprayin
wit fire

All the childhood fixins wit tha devil inside the
kitchen

Got my mind on my gun and I'm finna pull a
pistol



[Verse 3: Bohagen]

You see the streets, they'll shallow you whole,yo
mind body and soul

And leave you in a ditch cold wit no shoes and
clothes

Waitin for the trash collector

Follow me mind selector to the ghetto sector

They'll kill you over thirty dollars

I seen a man cut wit a dirty bottle blood
squirted on his shirt and collar

I heard him holla a sound that I cant forget

Ran home, watched cartoons and ain't said
shit

And to this day moma thought I was up at the
park

while she was at the church praising the lord

I made through amazingly unscarred

She had to be praying becuz I made it by the
grace of the god

Im proud of my hard times, I spit hard rhymes

Bible in one hand, the other hand 9

dreaming of naming streets and boulevards
mine

Grab yo piece of the pie, the other parts
mine



[Chorus - 2X]